


Ocean Eyes

by SylviaNightshade



Category: Lost
Genre: Characters off the island, Co-parents Kate and Clare, Don't give up on Skate tho, F/F, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Lost (TV) - Freeform, Missing plot scenarios, Mother-son dynamic, Okay I lied Kate and Clare are very gay, after the finale, angsty past, lots of sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-19 08:08:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12406464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylviaNightshade/pseuds/SylviaNightshade
Summary: Kate's falling apart, but Aaron asks too many questions.





	Ocean Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> This took me forever to write and even longer to edit, so sorry if it's trash still. I tried to make it the best I could! 
> 
> Note: Anyone who does not love angst/brokenness: this fic is full of it so be warned. Most of LOST is angst/brokenness anyway so what's new.

She hates leaving him.

It’s always Claire that takes him out to the bus stop in the mornings, kisses his forehead, and lets his fingers slip through hers. Folds her arms in like it’s nothing, but Kate knows it’s hard for her, too. She’s better these days, and nights. It’s been almost two months that Kate’s not woken up to her screaming, not had to hold her, murmuring empty comforts that will never be enough. She supposes the altered medication is working, but since James has been back, she suspects it’s that more than anything. Her smiles are soft now, genuine. Her eyes are clear.

Sometimes, those eyes are the only thing Kate still wakes up for.

He has them, too. Ocean blue, light with life and dark with wonder. It makes her heart ache to think that she ever left him. This beautiful boy. _Her_ boy. He comes home from school every day to find her at her computer, Claire in the study or the kitchen, and he gives the widest grin as he presents his latest work of art, on a piece of lined notebook paper, a napkin, the backs of his hands. Lately, he’s obsessed with sketching dragons, since all his favorite stories are fantasies. She’ll take his creations in her palms and gasp, no matter how tired she is. Claire will come, drying her hands on a towlette or resting her weight on the railing. They’ve taken to framing each and every drawing on the walls.

He started when she left. Carole told her, as they sat awkwardly across from each other at the tiny dining room table. Waiting for Aaron to wake up, since it wasn’t even seven in the morning. Guilt had been eating away at her for almost two days and she had to come. If not for her, for Claire.

He waltzed down the stairs sleepily, rubbing at his eyes. They opened wide and blue for her, and she stood, ready for him to reject her. To run. He did run— into her arms, crying, “Mommy!” And she’s never sobbed harder in her life.

She sobs as hard, on the nights when she remembers everything she’s done, or when missing him is too much that she can’t breathe, and Claire has to hold her in their tiny bed until they’re both crying, and kissing sometimes, but she hasn’t quite worked that part out yet. It’s logical to think about— Kate hasn’t slept in the study for over a year. They have a son. He’s _theirs._ But she still feels like an outsider to all this, and she knows Claire does, too.

The best parts come when he’s with James. When they’re all together. It feels like a fragment of their former world, twisted and broken, but still comforting. She wishes she could love them the way they deserve— that she didn’t still have this impulse to run. Their history shows in their familiarity, but there’s tragedy in their thoughts, always. 

Which is why having him is something so utterly special and unbelievably lucky, because he is their chance. He is pure in every sense of the word, and he knows none of the pain that he should, being born in that forsaken place. He has no history to erase from his mind. So, he is... inevitabley, curious about theirs. Kate has tried to avoid telling him anything, but he always asks the same questions.

“Did daddy die?”

She’s on the couch next to him, some late cartoon playing on mute. Those eyes look up at her, dark blue. A small, sad smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. “No, baby. Your daddy is still alive, remember? He lives in Australia.”

“Not Thomas,” Aaron protests in his tiny voice.

Her smile fades, slowly, dropping into something close to anguish, because it’s the first time he’s asked about Jack since before...

“Did he die when you went away?”

It’s almost unbearable, like the shock of being injected. A dull ache pulses through her, and she gathers words in her head that are anything but the truth. 

“Please don’t lie to me.”

She gazes at him under furrowed brows, but she’s more sorry than anything. Her son knows she lies to him. Maybe he’s just used to grown-ups avoiding the truth, or maybe he’s used to it because of her. He’s seven years old, and he’s the quietest kid she’s ever met. She imagines him at school, tucked at a desk in the corner. Always observing, never speaking. He’s got two fucked up moms and an uncle that isn’t related to them. Maybe he tells the other kids that, and maybe they laugh at him. Maybe that’s way he never seems to hang out with anyone but that girl, Maimree. All at once, she wants to scoop him up and take him away from all this, like she did before.

Maybe she’s the problem. Maybe he should have stayed with Carole after all.

With a shaky breath, she reaches out to take his hand. He lets her, despite the frightened look in his eyes. There are tears flowing freely down her cheeks now, and she realizes it’s not the first time she’s cried in front of him. It seems to be all she does these days.

“Oh, baby,” she whispers wetly, trying to smile. “You are so smart.” Squeezes his hand. “And you deserve so much better than what we’ve given you.”

“Mommy,” he whispers back, ocean depths shining with worry. Hesitates for a beat before crawling over to wrap his arms around her. She grips him like a lifeline. “It’s okay,” he mumbles. “It’s okay.”

When he finally pulls back, she decides she’s going to tell him the truth. His hands leave her shoulders as she sets him back down across from her, closer this time. She shakes her hair back, wiping her face on sweater sleeves. Composed, she looks at him, gentle and forthcoming. Brushes his cheek with her knuckles.

“Your,” she starts. “Your...” It’s harder than she thought. “My...” She sighs. “His name was Jack.” There.

Aaron looks down. “He wasn’t my father?”

Kate rests her hand on his knee, swirling circles. “No. But he loved you like a father would.”

“Why did he leave us?”

She swallows. “Because he had to, baby. We both had to... to go fix things somewhere else.”

“Like Maimree’s aunt and uncle?” Aaron asks. “They went across the ocean to fight the bad guys and help people rebuild their houses.”

Lips tucked together, she closes her eyes. Breathes and opens them again. “Yes. Like that.”

“Did he die fighting the bad guys?”

A sob sits deep in her chest, working up to her throat. “Yes,” she chokes out, putting a hand over her mouth. Regains composure. “He died fighting for us.”

“Did you love him?” The glow of the television reflects against his face. All concern is gone, replaced by the wonder.

She nods with a closed-lipped smile. “Yes. I did.”

Aaron chews his lip. “So do you love Mum?”

That catches her off guard. “Yes,” she says slowly. “But...” But what? She shakes her head. “You can love more than one person.”

“Even after they’re gone?”

Proudly, she nods. “Even after they’re gone.”

He considers this for a moment, and she lets him. There’s a lot she’s told him, a lot she hasn’t, and either way it’s all too much to process. Kate watches the gears spin, hoping beyond hope that he’ll understand, and he suprises her yet again. “But there are different kinds of love, aren’t there?”

 _Her boy._ She wants to hold him so badly. “Yes.”

“So, you love me...” he continues. “Because you’re my mom. And Mum loves me because she’s my mum. And Uncle Sawyer loves me because he’s your friend and I’m your son.” She can hardly believe how smart he is. “But Uncle Sawyer loves you because you’re his friend, and he loves Mum because she’s his friend, too.” He stops. “So that’s all for family.”

She bites her lip, nodding. “That’s right. You’re so right, baby.”

Ocean-blue light pools in his eyes. “Then what about you and Mum? And you and... Jack?”

Time seems to slow as she thinks about what to say to him. How to tell him what he probably already knows. How parents are supposed to go about explaining things to their children. Small words, long sentences. He’s just too smart for that.

“I love your mum,” she states finally, breaking the silence gently. “Because we’ve been through a lot together. We know each other’s strengths and weaknesses, and we have each other’s backs. She’s my partner.” She may as well admit it to her son if she won’t admit it to herself.

“So you love her like Maimree’s mom and dad love each other?” Aaron questions.

Kate smiles. “Yes. Just like that.”

“And did you love Jack like that?”

Struggling through, she nods again, “Yes, I did.”

“But you still do,” he says, moving his hand to rest on hers. “Right? Because you can love someone even after they’re gone?”

“Yes, baby.”

Aaron looks around at the patterns on the rug, quiet once again. Kate’s almost ready to send him up to bed, but he speaks. “I think I love Maimree.”

Her sweet boy. It fills her with warmth to hear that, though he moves to clarify. “We’ve been through a lot together, and we have each other’s backs. She’s my partner.”

A laugh escapes, and it feels amazingly free leaving her chest. “I’m sure she is.”

He lets her carry him upstairs, despite how big and heavy he is now. She lays him down as gently as she can without dropping him onto his bed, pulls the covers up, and turns on the night light. He’s still very much awake when she leans down to kiss his forehead, and he grabs her wrist before she turns to leave. “Wait.”

Kneeling, her ears catch his whisper. “Promise you won’t die fighting the bad guys, too?”

Her heart gives an unwelcome twinge, but she steadies it, stroking his hair. “I didn’t the first time, did I?” Seeing his face, she amends: “Promise.”

Satisfied, he closes his eyes, curling up under the thick comforter. She leaves the door slightly open.

Once in the hall, the tears are inevitable. It takes everything inside her not to collapse, but she still feels her throat catch and her eyes gently burn. Trapses down the carpet walkway to her bedroom, two shaky steps for every breath. An old mermaid night-light glows in the corner; Claire is already asleep, mirror image of her son. Quietly, Kate strips off her outer layers and climbs under the covers. It calms her incredibly quickly, so she stares at that serene expression, arms tucked beneath the pillows. They lay that way until dawn, when the sun’s first rays paint the sheets. She doesn’t remember falling under, but she must have, because her eyes shift sleepily open. They roam around for a few seconds before finding ocean blue.

Claire smiles sweetly, lips plump and pale from inactivity. Kate scoots forward and kisses her, like she’s wanted to so many times, like she should have every time. Claire presses back gently, both still caught in a morning haze. When they pull back, Claire rests her hand, warm, on Kate’s hip. “What was that for?” she murmurs.

Kate brushes the blonde hairs back from Claire’s face. “Nothing,” she whispers back. “I just love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Okay I ship all the ships what do you want from me.


End file.
